Leaving Manhattan, the Cullinan headed south along Broadway Avenue, passed through Wall Street, and arrived at the location Elizabeth had sent to Li Wei.
He pulled up to an old ferry terminal that looked somewhat dilapidated. The verdigris ironwork gleamed in the sunlight. Though the paint on the exterior walls was mottled, the intricate patterns suggested it was intentionally designed to look vintage.
He parked at the main entrance, where a valet hurried over to greet him. Li Wei pulled out a 20 USD tip and handed over the car keys.
"Mr. Li Wei, welcome to Casa Cipriani. I'm a huge fan of yours," the door manager said, his face lighting up with pleasant surprise as he recognized him. "Are you here to dine?"
"Yes, and to discuss a few things while I'm at it," Li Wei said with a smile. "Is this a members-only establishment?"
"It is," the manager replied. "May I ask—"
"He's with me."
